


However Far Away...

by MurderouslyAdorkable



Series: Skimmons Prompts by the Murderously Adorable One [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/F, Fantasy Sex, POV Alternating, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 08:10:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MurderouslyAdorkable/pseuds/MurderouslyAdorkable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jemma is separated from the group on the alien world, she misses Skye and imagines being with her, Skye is imagining the same thing. Set during the six and half of months shown during the episode, Season Three, Episode Five: “4,722 Hours” with a twist to the ending of Season Three, Episode Two: “Purpose in the Machine.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	However Far Away...

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr Prompt from Anon - When Jemma is separated from the group on the alien world, she misses Skye and imagines being with her, Skye is imagining the same thing. 
> 
> **A/N:** This is my first Skimmons Fict, so be gentle. And also I still think I suck at sex scenes in general. But you know what they say about practice. A note about the song lyrics in here, they are from three different songs. I’m trying to use them to illustrate the passage of time. I hope it's not too confusing. I also tweaked the prompt a bit. I hope you enjoy it. :)  
>  **Warnings:** Angst and Smut  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters, universes or situations. They belong to Marvel, ABC etc, etc. I claim no rights to copyrighted material and this story is purely for entertainment purposes.

**[Daisy]**

_**Six and Half Months Ago…**_   

“You need to sleep,” Coulson says, laying a fatherly hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get her back.”

Daisy doesn’t believe him. Maybe because she knows Coulson and she can tell when he isn’t being honest. He doesn’t believe they’ll get Jemma back. He thinks she’s gone. So does the others. Except Fitz. But it’s not like she can talk to him about this. It would only make this more complicated. Not that any of this is simple. But if she speaks with Fitz about Jemma he might find out what she’s managed to kept secret from everyone else.

Well, May and Coulson might already know. But May won’t bring it up. And Coulson will only bring it up if it becomes a problem. So long as Fitz doesn’t find out, it won’t be a problem.

“Do I have to give you an order, Daisy?” Phil asks.

She shakes her head. “No. I’m turning in for the night.”

Coulson grins. “Good. You know how much I hate giving orders.”

Daisy rolls her eyes, trying to fight off of the tiny smile that curls the end of her lips when the big boss starts in with his Dad Jokes. It doesn’t feel right with Jemma missing. No, not missing. Gone. There isn’t a trace of her, outside of her unfinished projects, and Fitz’s moping. For everyone else it’s business as usual. But not for Daisy. And certainly not for Fitz. The only reason she doesn’t have that same lovesick look is because it isn’t fair to Fitz or Simmons.

She thought by stepping aside she is doing right by them. Being honorable. Daisy has her duties. To S.H.I.E.L.D., to the other Inhumans. She couldn’t let this get in the way of her job.

“Get some rest, Daisy.”

She gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir, Mr. Director, sir.”

 

 

**[Jemma]**

_**812 Hours…** _

“Fitz… I’m sorry…” Jemma whispers to no one. “And Skye…”

She doesn’t finish that sentence. She can’t do anything about that now. It is hard; being torn between the man that she has known for almost a decade, and the woman that has become her sister-in-arms. They’ve bonded over the last year or so. And she has seen Skye at her lowest, after Ward betrayed them. It cut Skye to the bone. Because well, she had trusted him. But it had been more than that.

There had been so many times she found Skye blaming herself for everything. Bobbi’s injuries. May pulling away from them. Coulson losing his hand.

“I should have confirmed the kill,” Skye once told her. “It’s what he… I was trained to be better.”

Jemma knew who had trained to be that way. Ward. She tried to convince Skye that it wasn’t her way. She wasn’t like Ward. But Skye is like her. Seeing is believing. And it doesn’t matter if there was no possible way to know that Ward would react the way he did. Skye feels like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. And despite everyone telling her she didn’t let anyone down, Skye can’t let go of her guilt.

She missed Fitz and Skye. But it’s Skye that she dreams about at night. It’s Skye that she wishes is here with her, to hold her, to keep her from slowly going insane. She loves Fitz, too, but he can’t survive out here. Skye can match her. Skye is a fighter; a survivor.

The wooden cell is small and she can almost hear Skye’s voice, offering some kind of support. A sarcastic quip, her considerable abilities, a warm shoulder on these cold days… nights… Who knows anymore. It’s been more than a month. And she’s losing track of the time.

Sleep, Jemma. You need to rest. We’ll work on our daring escape tomorrow. Or whatever.

“Fine, Skye,” Jemma whispers, curling into the fetal position on the cold dirt ground. “I’ll sleep. But only because we’re getting out of her tomorrow…” She smiles, lazily. “Or whatever…”

 

 

**[Daisy]**

_However far away, I will always love you…_  
 _However long I stay, I will always love you…_  
 _Whatever words I say, I will always love you…_  
 _I will always love you…_  

Jemma’s an Adele fan. And this is a good cover. But Daisy prefers the original. They’d urge over it. Jemma would make fun of her taste in music. Skye’s still young and yet her musical taste is somewhat schizophrenic. She likes Trip-Hop, and Classic Rock (All Coulson’s fault). She enjoys indie rock bands, but if Nicki Minaj comes on the radio, Daisy can’t help but bust of few moves. And then there’s her undying love for any and everything 80s. The Cure is just the tip of the iceberg. And Jemma was here…

Well there if Jemma was here, in her room, lying beside her as they quietly listened to Adele, there wouldn’t be doing much talking.

Daisy groans. This is torture. Jemma should be here. Daisy wants her here. She wants to hold her and never let go.

_Skye… What if they hear us?_

“They won’t…” she breathes. “You just got to be quiet… And it’s Daisy now.”

_Daisy. It’s what your father and mother named you… You’re not running from your abilities anymore. That’s good._

“Jemmy, don’t… Don’t mention my folks, you’re killing the mood.”

Daisy would give anything to hear Jemma’s laugh, see that sheepish grin as she brushes the hair out of her face, brushing her cheek with the pad of her thumb, her face flushing when Daisy pulls her close; one hand on her thigh, encouraging her to wrap her leg around her waist.

_Right… Kiss me, Daisy…_

And she would. Slow, sweet, her hand running up her thigh, grinning into the kiss as she glides over Jemma’s ass, listening to her moan, rocking against Daisy’s thigh. Jemma’s fingers threading through her curls.

_I like the new haircut._

Daisy would chuckle, her hand slipping under Jemma’s shirt, drawing lazy circles along the small of her back, as Jemma gasps and whimpers under her careful touch.

“We’re wearing too much clothes,” she murmurs.

_I agree. Clothes are entirely overrated…_

She’d pull back then, both of them shedding their shirts before Daisy would pull Jemma against her again, skin on skin, their lips coming together. It isn’t slow and sweet anymore. There’s real heat now, passion. Daisy’s fingers dancing along her spine, inching closer to her bra, skillfully undoing the clasp with one hand before pushing the straps down her shoulders.

_If we keep on, I won’t be able stay quiet._

“You have to, Jemma,” she tells her, breaking away to trail soft kisses along her jaw, her neck, pulling the bra down to expose Jemma’s breasts.

_Daisy…_

She’d capture her lips again, swallowing a moan from the gorgeous Brit in her arms, as a hand palms one of her breasts.

_Daisy…_

“Shh…” Daisy says. “I don’t want to rush this, Jemma. I’ve waited so long to have you like this. I don’t want someone else to ruin it now that I have you.”

 

 

**[Jemma]**

_**815 Hours…**_

Sleep eludes Jemma. She’s plagued with a million of What-ifs. What if she had let Fitz down gently? What if she had it been Skye in that room before she was taken through the stone? What if Skye was here with her now?

_I am here, Jemma. I’m right here…_

“Don’t leave me, Skye,” Jemma whispers, falling into Skye’s embrace. “Stay with me.”

_Always… Just kiss me, Jemma… I’m right here… And I’m not going anywhere. Be with me._

“Yes,” Jemma says. She’d give anything to find out if Skye’s lips are as soft as they look, kissing her slowly, deeply, running her hands through her hair, keeping her flush against her body. Even if it’s on some dirt floor on a planet that can’t possibly be anywhere near their own solar system.

_I want you, Jemma…_

She moans, just thinking about how Skye would say her name. Her voice low and husky as she strips Jemma of her top, and Jemma rocking into her, desperate from any kind of relief; not matter how fleeting it may be.

_You’ve gotta be quiet._

Jemma groans. “I don’t think I can.”

She’d kill to see that confident grin, as Skye realizes this is going to happen. They’ve waited too long to make something like being stranded on a foreign planet stop them.

_God, you’re gorgeous… Why didn’t we do this sooner?_

“Idiocy…” Jemma offers, biting her lip as Skye leaves a heated trail of kisses along her jaw, down her neck. She wants to moan, to show Skye how much she wants this, how much she needs this; needs her. God, if only she was here. Jemma wishes she is with her, her hands all over, as she rocks against the thigh set between her legs.

_Are you sure about this, Jemma? We can stop… I won’t be angry if you -_

“Don’t you dare stop, Skye,” Jemma hisses, pulling her closer. “Don’t ever stop.”

Her breath is coming out is ragged puffs, just imagining Skye with her; her lips trailing brushing along her bare shoulder, hands palming one of her breasts.

_This needs to go. I want to feel you._

“Take it off, Skye,” Jemma whispers, guiding her hands under her thin shirt, gasping at how cold her hands are. Or maybe it’s just her body temperature is raising. That does tend to happen in the beginning stage of arousal. And to say she’s aroused would be a gross simplification. It’s like her skin is on fire.

She can almost hear Skye’s low chuckle, against her skin.

_You’re acutally thinking about science at a time like this?_

“I can’t help it,” she breathes. “I’m a scientist, Skye.”

_I know. I like that about you. Brilliant and beautiful._

 

 

**[Daisy]**

_Do I wanna know?_   
_If this feeling flows both ways..._   
_Sad to see you go..._   
_Was sorta hoping that you'd stay..._   
_Baby we both know..._   
_That the nights were mainly made for saying,_   
_Things that you can't say tomorrow day..._

It’s some cruel cosmic joke that this is only in her head. That this is the closest she’ll ever come to having Jemma in her bed. They’d be naked by now. Jemma looking up at her, her golden brown eyes darkening, as Daisy straddled one of her legs, hips undulating, moaning before she dipped back down to kiss her again. They’ve never done this before and yet, Daisy’s already addicted.

_Need I remind you that you’re the one who told me that discretion was important here ?_

“I know, Jemma, but…” She’s biting her lip to keep from crying out when fingers find her warm, slick center.

_Shh… I like seeing you like this, Daisy._

“But…” she tries to speak but the fingers slide inside of her and the moan that falls from her lips can’t be helped. Whatever she is going to say is forgotten. She’s lost herself to the sensation. To this fantasy that will haunt her come the morning. But right now, the dream is what is keeping her going. Tomorrow she can feel guilty. Tomorrow she can avoid Fitz. Tomorrow she can worry about how they’re going to get Jemma back. Tomorrow she can wrack her brain as to what will happen between them when she does return.

Right now, only the dream matters. The fingers between her legs pumping slowly in and out of her. It’s almost as torturous as not having Jemma really here. Almost.

“Jemma,” she murmurs. “I need you… I wish…”

_I’m here, Daisy. Hold onto me. I’m here for you._

 

 

**[Jemma]**

_**816 Hours…** _

She should have just told her how she felt. There were a thousand different times she could have just came out and say it. Consequences be damned. She could have just pushed her fear aside and taken a change. Then maybe this would be real and not just some trick of her mind. Maybe Skye be here, slipping an unsteady hand between her legs, fingers slipping through wet folds.

_Fuck… I wish I could taste you._

Jemma arches into the touch. Her teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep her moans to a quiet whimpering. But she wants to be loud. She wants Skye to know what she does to her. Just the thought of her touch is maddening, making her forget that she’s alone.

_When we get home… I promise… it’ll be different._

Jemma hopes so. She wants things to be different. She wants this to be more than just a dream. She wants to feel Skye inside of her, she wants to feel the weight of her warm body on hers, thumb slowly circling the tiny bundle of nerves, driving away any fleeting concerns.

_Yes, that’s it, Jemma. God, this is so good._

It is good. It’s better than good.

“Please, Skye…” she begs, hips bucking to meet each thrust. Jemma promises herself that once she finds a way, she’s going to make this a reality. She’s going to have this. She deserves it. They both do. And if there is some kind of god, they’ll have it in truth one day. One day soon.

_We will, Jemma. I’ll take my time. I’ll make this last. I hope you know that._

“I do,” she gasping; her inner walls clenching around the fingers pumping in and out of her.

 

 

**[Daisy]**

_I'd run away, I'd run away with you, would you run with me?_   
_Our life could be a little bumpy, but I'll hold on..._   
_Just wanna tell you that I see you, baby, do you see me?_   
_Cause this is special, baby._   
_Fuck ‘em only we know…_

She’s close. So close. Her body now covered in a sheen of sweat as she tries to stave off the climax that has her trembling. The fingers between her legs have different plans. They’re working in and out of her fast and deep and Daisy feels like she’s about to rip apart at the seams.

_It’s okay, Daisy. We have time. We’ll have time._

“But I don’t want this to stop,” she whimpers.

_It doesn’t have to._

“But I’m close…”

_I know._

The tension is building. Whatever steady rhythm is lost and her mind is misfiring. Because she can feel Jemma underneath her. She can feel the warmth of her body, fingers curling inside of her now, the soft pad of her thumb pressing into her clit. Daisy throws her head back as she finds release in this fiction, whispering Jemma’s name as she rides out her orgasm.

And that’s when it all shatters. Daisy is alone. And Jemma… she isn’t here. Maybe she’ll never come back. And they’ll never know what could have been. That’s the thought that keeps her awake that night.

“Please, come home…” Daisy praises, huddled under her bedsheets, tears welling in her eyes. “I need you.”

 

 

**[Jemma]**

_**817 Hours…** _

“Skye…” Her breath is ragged now, her body shaking, meeting every torturous thrust. She can feel her climax building, like a distant memory, bubbling to the surface. But she can feel herself fighting it. Because this isn’t real. Skye’s not here.

_I am here._

Jemma shakes her head. It isn’t real. But she wants it to be real. She wants to feel Skye. She wants to whisper her name over and over like a prayer. How can she miss a touch she never experienced? As a woman of science this defies logic and reason. But Jemma’s feelings for Skye aren’t rooted in science. And she doesn’t care. Because for now the delusion is real enough.

_You’re close…_

Jemma nods, swallowing against the thump in her throat, her words failing her as she draws closer and closer to the conclusion of this fantasy.

_It’s okay to let go, Jemma._

But she doesn’t want to. She wants to hold onto this feeling, this dream, this illusion. She tells herself that Skye is here. She’s with her. She wants her. She wants this.

_We’ll have our chance, Jemma. I promise._

She’s losing herself to sensation. Giving over to self-induced hallucination. Skye’s with her, inside of her, whispering her name, spurring her on, telling her to let go.

_Come, Jemma. I want to see you let go. Please_

With one last thrust, Jemma’s body goes rigid and the climax hold of her, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, making her whole body vibrate as she rides it out, breathing Skye’s name.

And then poof. The reality crashes into her. Skye’s gone. She’s not here. And Jemma is alone on the cold ground, her own hand between her legs.

Her lips quivers as tears roll down her cheeks. She needs to get home. She needs to make this real. She needs to tell Skye how she feels. She’s tired of being afraid.

Tomorrow, she promises herself. Tomorrow she’ll work on a way to get out of this blasted cage and get home.

   

 

**[Present Day]**

Jemma wakes with a shiv clutched tightly in her small hands. She looks around and finds herself at Headquarters. It’s just a dream. It’s just a nightmare. The logical part of her brain starts justifying it all. It’s just PTSD. It’s just her psyche’s way of coping with trauma. But it’s more than that. The fear is back and stronger than ever. And she doesn’t know if she’ll be able to fight it this time. Maybe she’s just not strong enough.

“Jemma?”

Her heart jumps into her throat at the sound; shiv at the ready she jerks toward the voice. She only finds Skye, sitting on the floor, keeping watch.

“Skye...”

“It’s Daisy, now.”

Jemma chuckles, nervously, as she lowers the shiv. “Right. I’m sorry.”

Daisy shrugs and though it’s clear she notices the weapon she doesn’t draw attention to it. “It’s okay,” she tells Jemma. “You can call me whatever you want. Just promise me you’re real.”

“Pardon?” Confusion furrows the scientist's brow.

“Uh…” The taller woman flushes, scratching the back of her neck, trying not to meet Jemma’s amber colored eyes. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad, you’re back. And that you’re safe.”

“Right…”

“Right…” Daisy jabs a thumb toward the door. “Well, I better go.”

As she gets up, Jemma calls out to her. “No! Please stay.”

Daisy meets her gaze and whatever she sees causes her to nod, settling back on the floor against the wall. “Okay.”

Jemma nods, her heartbeat finally slowly down. “Okay.”

Neither of them says a word, but Jemma can feel the tension in the air around them. There’s so many thing she wants to tell Skye - well - Daisy. But she can’t. It’s all too much. She can only scoot to the other side of the bed and flip over the sheets.

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

Daisy’s eyes widen in shock. “It’s okay if you need your space. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“But I don’t need space,” Jemma pleads. “I need to feel like I’m not alone. Please, stay with me.”

Daisy glances at the door. They both know it’s locked but that doesn’t mean there isn’t at least five people that have a key to this room. And then Jemma swears she hears Daisy say, “Fuck it…” and joins her.

Without saying anything, Jemma nestles against the other woman, and Daisy wraps an arm around her, holding her against her chest. And when Jemma tries to move in an attempt to toss away her weapon, Daisy stops her.

“Whatever you have to do to feel safe,” she tells her.

“But what if I have another night terror and… and - well - hurt you?”

Daisy shrugs again at her words. “I’m willing to take that risk, if you are.”

Jemma relaxes, with a giant sigh of relief, seeking the comfort that is so unabashedly offered.  Daisy trusts her, even Jemma can’t quite trust herself right now.

“Thank you…”

“For what?”

“For getting me back.”

“That was Fitz. He never gave up on you. I just -”

“Nearly killed yourself using your abilities to help him.”

“Jemma…”

“Shh… Just hold me, Daisy. Please… I need this.”

And she does. They both do. Soon, Jemma’s asleep in Daisy’s arms, sleeping dreamlessly. Save for a voice whispering to her. A voice that sounds a lot like Daisy.

“I’m here for you, Jemma… I’ll always be here for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think of my first Skimmons Fict? Reviews are fanfiction fuel. I'm CuteLikeMurder on Tumblr and MurderouslyCute on Twitter which apparently I need to use more. :D I normally write SwanQueen femslash but I'm branching out. This is the first of three Skimmons prompts I've gotten. So please tell me what you thought in the comments below.


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